


The Angel and the Occult

by Kazewrites



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Allergies, Drabble, Established Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Fanfiction, Fluff, Gen, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Sneezing, Worried Crowley (Good Omens), aziraphale has allergies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 21:08:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20896121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kazewrites/pseuds/Kazewrites
Summary: While in Japan, Aziraphale spies a shop.  But all is not what it seems.





	The Angel and the Occult

**Author's Note:**

> Taken from a prompt on tumblr that Aziraphale would be allergic to occult items.

The nip in the London air couldn’t be ignored. It was October no less. However, when Crowley had suggested they spend the afternoon in Japan, he hadn’t bet on the same freaking weather.

“My dear, if you’re cold, you should have worn a heavier coat.” Aziraphale shook his head as adjusted his scarf around his neck.

Crowley gave a half inaudible gruff before hunching his shoulders forward.

The angel was about to offer lunch when he felt a tug, not an earthly one nor demonic as Crowley’s hands were shoved into his pockets. But nevertheless a tug, as if something was beckoning him. Abruptly stopping in his tracks, he began looking around.

Crowley had taken several steps beyond when he noticed Aziraphale was not at his side anymore. “Angel?”

Aziraphale’s eyes finally landed on a shop across the street. He pointed happily. “We need to go in there.” Not even letting Crowley reply, Aziraphale hurried to the cross walk with a confused demon behind. Barely a look across the way, Aziraphale started toward the shop not noticing the WALK light had miraculously changed.

“In where?” Crowley asked when he finally caught up. “You in the mood for sushi again?” All the little shops along the street appeared to be restaurants.

“No, no. Here.” Aziraphale stopped in front of small door with years of weather damage showing its age. Had you not been looking for it, your eye would have gone passed it. The entrance sat back from the walkway. Only a small sign indicating the shop was open hung. No windows or never a sign hung above it.

“Angel are you sure?” But Crowley’s words slide off Aziraphale who pulled on the handle.

Inside was dimly lit. Years of dust along with the faint smell of incense, floated in what light the hanging lamps gave off. Two steps in, Crowley realized why Aziraphale had nearly discorporated himself getting here.

A bookshop.

Heaving a sigh, Crowley followed the angel whose face lit up upon entering through the tightly packed aisle ways lined with over a centuries collection of books and other artifacts.

Old weapons, masks, different tapestries hung on every available wall space. In Crowley’s mind it felt much like Aziraphale’s bookshop.

The angel ran his delicate fingers along the bindings as his eyes sparkled.

_Damn if he isn’t adorable. _Crowley thought.

As he followed Aziraphale, it was the demons turn to feel something. Something wasn’t right.

“Aziraphale.” Crowley said lowly, now alert as he looked around the shop.

“Hang on a moment…” Aziraphale sniffed and quickly rubbed his eye. “Quite dusty in here.”

“As is your shop…” Crowley slide past the angel. A few aisles behind stood a room covered in a long beaded curtain. Whatever he felt definitely came from that room.

Behind him, he heard Aziraphale stifle a sneeze.

Reaching his long fingers out, Crowley slowly pulled back part of the beads.

“Shit.” He hissed.

Whirling around, his hand gasped Aziraphale’s arm. “We’re going.”

“Wha–” Aziraphale couldn’t even reply as he jerked down the aisle. “C-crowl-ley…wh-h…”

Aziraphale inhaled sharply, sneezing into his free arm. Sniffling, he blinked as tears clouded his vision. “Cro…” Another dry itchy sneeze. Aziraphale barely got a handkerchief out to wipe his stinging eyes when a fit of quick tickling sneeze over took him.

Crowley swore again as he pushed the shop door open. Snapping his fingers time stopped.

“Wh-hat…the h-h-hell…”

Aziraphale bent forward burying his twitching nose into his handkerchief. Nearly soiled, he then wiped his red puffy eyes against his scarf.

“How about ‘Oh thank you Crowley’ for starters.” The demon spun on his heels. “Have you any idea…”

He had to pause as Aziraphale fell into another sneezing fit. Crowley waited (time wasn’t going anywhere) arms crossed until the angel recovered.

Sniffling thickly still, Aziraphale finally blew his nose which was pinkish around the edges. Rubbing his dry eyes with his thumb and first finger did little to relief the itching he still felt.

“I demand an explanation.” He croaked out. Aziraphale glared at Crowley with those red puffy eyes.

“Angel…look at you.” Crowley motioned up and down with his finger. “Do you know what was in that back room?”

Aziraphale went to snap a reply but then he softened. It hit him. Sighing, he glanced away from Crowley while ringing his handkerchief between his hands.

“Occult items, I assume.” Aziraphale sniffled again.

Crowley nodded.

“I should’ve known. Most…” Aziraphale turned masking another sneeze. “Most old shops like this have some items. I never know if they’re real or not.” He sniffled again.

Crowley snapped his fingers and time began again. “Oh they were real.” He said as the two started walking again.

“Well why didn’t you tell me?” Aziraphale snapped.

“Oh so all this is my fault is it, angel?” Crowley stuck his hands forceful back in his pocket. In the mess he’d forgotten how cold it still was.

“No, it’s not.” Aziraphale looked away rather defeated. He paused to wipe his still tearing eyes with the scarf. Aziraphale then glanced up at Crowley, pouted a bit and raised his eyebrows.

Throwing his head back, Crowley growled, “Come on, I’ll buy you another one.”

Aziraphale smiled and stuck the handkerchief in his pocket before taking Crowley’s arm.


End file.
